Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I’m on a Mission. And I Can’t Tell You About it.
I’m a firm believer in eating a good breakfast. Or just a breakfast. Whatever. Apparently, this doesn’t include the SlimFast “shakes” I’ve been chilling in my fridge because, invariably, the morning I tell myself, Y’know, self, you’ve been eating like shit the past couple days and probably will again today, and take plan to have a “shake” for breakfast instead (to replace the already-modest breakfast I usually have, taking it to work with me to more adequately bridge the gap between waking up and inhaling whatever prepackaged, frozen dinner I happened to bring to work with me) . . . that’s the morning I leave the “shake” in the fridge. At home.* And have no backup breakfast. So I can either starve myself until lunch (not usually an option), swing by Starbucks and pick up my customary 10,000-calorie venti mocha, or make arrangements to stockpile backup breakfasts at work (instead of eating a packet of oatmeal scavenged from the office kitchenette, which was best-by dated sometime in 2004). So, worry not, The Internet. Because, now, to go along with the 17 packets of Taco Bell mild sauce, bag of spearmint Starlight mints, and wintergreen Altoids in my desk drawer, I have a couple packets of oatmeal manufactured after we made Mia, an “oatmeal-to-go” bar, and a SlimFast breakfast bar.
I’m ready to go, World. Er, The Internet.
* Don’t say it. Or type it. You can’t stockpile JACK in the office fridge. We’re not a sharing bunch. That, and/or the fact that when I finally remembered that they were there, I’d be a fucking LIFER drinking Optima-infused low-fat milk from 14 years earlier.